


Love is the Prize; Live Our Own Lives

by dorkpatroller



Category: Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates, Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Commission fic, M/M, Some Spoilers, Trans Male Character, and one skeptical 2 year old., for revelations and also for heirs of fate sort of, good and pure reunited feelings, separated and reunited
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-12
Updated: 2017-04-12
Packaged: 2018-10-16 11:19:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10570242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dorkpatroller/pseuds/dorkpatroller
Summary: Laslow couldn't stay in Nohr. He was in love with Lord Xander, but he was also very afraid of what the future might entail. After three years, Xander finally learns of a way to get to Ylisse--and he is determined to win Laslow back.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kurisawa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kurisawa/gifts).



> Hello!
> 
> This isn't your ordinary fanfic, my friends! This is a very special fanfiction to me, because it is my very first commission! I had so much fun writing this, and I'm really excited to open up commissions so that I can write more of what people want. And who was this amazing person who commissioned me for my first-ever commission? A legend, a hero: 
> 
> http://www.deepwatcher.tumblr.com !!! They were literally the most fun to work with, and I loved every second of swapping cute headcanons and getting to know them a little better. Also a legitimate piece of significant iggy-history now. Thank you so much for working with me!
> 
> This is ALSO an exciting fic because it marks the day I'm officially announcing some blog changes and opening up my patreon. Look out at the bottom of the fic for more notes about that.
> 
> This is my first time writing a published fanfic with a trans male character in it. I did work very hard and even harassed a few friends to try and make this an accurate and comfortable representation. I hope that comes across in the writing.

It can’t be compared to the pain of a knife being twisted into his gut. The pain Laslow feels is something else completely. This pain is something sickening, dull, and laced with a sense of guilt so heady it makes his stomach churn. It makes his palms clammy when he thinks about it; it makes his fingertips twitch at his sides. He has felt this way for too long now. He felt this way since he decided he is going to leave Nohr. He made his decision over a month ago.

His decision is final.

This is the hardest choice Laslow ever had to make. It’s no wonder he’s so twisted up inside about it! Laslow is in love with Lord Xander. He… has been for some time. It isn’t a small love. It’s big. It fills up his entire heart and occupies his mind more often than he wants to admit.

Thus far their relationship was entirely behind closed doors. With the war distracting from it as well, there was hardly a whisper of it. Very few people know. Of course, there are several problems with their relationship. They are the reasons why it’s a secret in the first place. The first is that, the moment it began, Laslow knew this relationship was destined to crumble. From the first time his prince pushed him back against a stone wall and kissed him, Laslow was sure of it. This couldn’t last forever.

It hurts. Every breath hurts when Laslow thinks about leaving Xander. He loves him, he loves his voice and his scent and the stubble at his jaw. He loves the way he hides his chuckles when he sees Laslow make a fool of himself. He loves the way he becomes overly possessive when he sees Laslow flirt with women. Breaking _his own_ heart, however, is harmless. _Laslow_ will heal. He will get over it, one day. He is sure of it.

Breaking _Xander’s_ heart… That might kill Laslow. The idea alone has him sick to his stomach. He just can’t bring himself to tell him he’s leaving! He can already imagine the betrayal in his eyes. They will grow wide, momentarily, and then he will mask his shock with a trained face. He will swallow, the apple of his throat will bob while he tries to reel in his emotions and push them out of his mind. Laslow can almost hear the disbelief in his voice, and worst of all… well, he’s going to _hate_ Laslow. Won’t he?

It is these thoughts that caused Laslow to stall. They plagued him over and over, until he grew too afraid of them to form the words. His mouth opens and he tries to talk, he tries to start this conversation, but… he always hesitates. It is far easier to be selfish. Instead of telling Xander that he is leaving him, he finds himself wrapped up in the arms of a prince desperate for affection. Laslow is always a coward.

Not anymore.

Tonight is the night. Laslow is sick of stalling. He’s sick of feeling like a dirty, twisted liar. The knots in his stomach are starting to grow their own knots. Laslow can’t wait another day if he wanted to anyway. They are meant to leave in the morning.

He’s _going_ to tell Xander. It’s just the two of them. Peri was dismissed for the evening. Laslow was technically dismissed as well, but he lingers. Xander doesn’t seem to mind. He sits at his desk to finish his work and Laslow stands at attention nearby. His hands are clasped behind his back and his eyes are out of focus while he stares at the wall. He needs to tell Xander he is leaving. He needs to tell him _now._

He thinks he is going to turn around and say it. _On the count of three,_ he thinks, _One… two… two and a half…_

“Laslow.”

Xander’s voice comes with a warm hand on Laslow’s shoulder. A gasp bubbles up out of Laslow. He startles badly enough that he takes an entire step back from his liege to gather himself. He had no idea Xander approached him. “M-Milord, I…”

Xander looks mildly offended. Laslow can hardly blame him. If Xander looked at him like he was a mouse caught in a trap, he imagines that he would be irritated too. Thankfully, Xander’s irritation quickly fades into a tiny frown. “Are you alright? You’ve ignored me.”

“Wha… Have I? I apologize, Milord, my thoughts are a bit scattered right now…” Laslow expects Xander to push the issue. He will ask Laslow what is bothering him and Laslow will tell him. He’s going home to Ylisse. This is his moment.

Xander is full of surprises. He is very gentle. Perhaps because he startled Laslow a moment ago. He reaches out with one bare hand. His fingertips are calloused and rough, but they feel so soft and tender when they trail down the side of Laslow’s cheek. “I’ve something to speak to you about, Laslow, if you have a moment.”

_Me too_ , Laslow thinks. He swallows. It does nothing to dislodge the lump in his throat that has effectively silenced him. Since he can’t speak, he nods his head. _It’s time._ His brain reminds him for the hundredth time. Nothing about it is reassuring. He _must_ tell Xander the truth. With a deep breath, Laslow opens his mouth to speak up, and…

Xander interrupts. “I am in love with you, Laslow.”

Time stops in that moment. Laslow is sure of it! No seconds are passing; they are frozen in the exact moment that a pink hue comes to the Prince of Nohr’s cheeks. “I am certain… it has become obvious to you by now. This war has kept me from pursuing a deeper relationship with you, but that is no excuse. It was wrong of me to take advantage of you. I cherish every moment with you… I want to court you properly. I want to one day marry you if you’ll have me.”

It’s the most wonderful thing Laslow has ever heard. His heart drums in his chest and in his ears, and he can hear nothing at all. Not even his own, rational thoughts. This is a dream come true! His face burns with a blush so fierce it puts Xander’s to shame. Before he can think about it, he nods his head. “I love you too, Lord Xander. I love you so much.”

_No!_ His head is screaming at him. _You’re going home! You’re not staying. You can’t marry him! You can’t lie to him!_

Laslow’s body, in turn, completely ignores what his mind is saying. He takes a step forward. It is almost like he is living in slow motion, like he is watching from outside of his body while he lifts his hands to hold Xander’s face. Very gently he guides Xander down to kiss him. Xander accommodates him easily—enthusiastically. He pulls Laslow close and he spreads his palm flat against the small of his back. His hand is heavy and warm.

Laslow _can’t_ marry Xander. It is a fact! He is going home. Even if he were not, though… Well, Xander is the crown prince of Nohr. Laslow isn’t the right man for Xander. No man is the right man for Xander. Xander needs a wife who will provide him an heir and…

Laslow is capable. It crossed his mind before. He loves Xander and so, in his wildest fantasies, he has considered what it might be like for them to have a family together. Laslow daydreams of Xander with his child on his shoulders or sleeping with an infant tucked against his chest. Laslow is not afraid of _that_. He isn’t afraid of having a child with Xander, because he knows his lover to be kind and compassionate and _understanding_ in ways that most people aren’t.

Laslow is afraid of _Nohr_. If Xander took a husband instead of a wife, the kingdom would start whispering. There would be an uproar of gossip. Xander would be shamed for choosing not to sire an heir. He would be pressured until a day would come that they would all _inevitably_ find out Laslow’s secret. They would find out he _could_ have a child with Xander… and they would expect him to do so. Traditionally. They would expect him to behave as a _wife_ , to raise his children as a _wife_. They wouldn’t understand. They would call him _queen_ , but he’s not… He’s not a queen. He’s not a woman. Laslow doesn’t want the entire country, the entire _world,_ to know his secrets.

It would be miserable! No man deserves that. Laslow’s lover is considerate. He listens to what Laslow says and he understands who he is. Or… even if he doesn’t understand completely, Xander certainly _tries_. Surely he would understand why Laslow can’t marry him. Surely he would understand why Laslow can’t _stay_?

Laslow’s breath catches in his throat when Xander thumbs away tears from his eyes. “You’re crying, Laslow.” Is that so? Laslow supposes he hadn’t noticed. He looks away, anywhere but his liege’s eyes. He can’t look at him now. It’s humiliating, and it’s _scary_.

His plan was to break his _own_ heart. His prayers were that Xander saw him as nothing more than a tryst. Now there is no way he can leave without breaking Xander’s heart as well and that… that complicates things. Xander doesn’t deserve heartbreak. Not now. Not ever. He is a good man and he has suffered _enough._ Laslow reaches out with shaky hands and he curls his fingers into the sleeves of Xander’s shirt.

_Tell him now_ , his thoughts echo in his mind. _Tell him you want to go home. It has to be now._

Laslow’s anxiety comes back full force. His stomach twists so tight that he leans a little heavier into Xander’s embrace. His lips part, but his mouth is dry. Xander is watching him, waiting. His eyes are soft. What is he expecting Laslow to say? “I-I… Milord, I love you.” ‘ _But’_ , his mind prompts. Laslow chooses not to finish the sentence.

Xander swipes away some cooled tears from Laslow’s eyes. He pulls him close to his chest. It is only a matter of seconds before damp spots form in his shirt, but he doesn’t complain. _Laslow_ doesn’t protest. He melts into his lover the moment he is given the opportunity.

“Are you tired?” Xander asks him. Laslow nods his head into his chest, dumbly. He’s horribly tired. Physically and mentally. The weight of this burden is exponential. Xander nods his head. “Sleep here with me, tonight.” He says it like an order, but Laslow knows it is a request, and… in that moment, Laslow agrees.

In _that_ moment, Laslow doesn’t give one single, desperate fuck what the voice in his head is telling him. His _heart_ is telling him to nod his head yes. His _heart_ is telling him to sleep in Xander’s bed, to kiss him goodnight and to lay safe in his arms. “I don’t feel well,” It comes out in a tiny whisper. Xander holds him a little closer.

“I have no trouble believing that,” Xander says. His voice is light, laced with something warm that reminds Laslow of warm tea on a chilled day. He’s only teasing Laslow and it brings the tiniest little smile to the corner of his lips… but it’s hard to smile right now. It’s hard to smile when he can’t marry the man he loves.

It’s a disgusting feeling. He is elated and miserable in the same breath. He wants to laugh and to cry and to throw up and to dance. He _wants_ Xander to love him. He wants it so much. Even more than that, he wants to hear him _say it again_. He wants to remember it every day for the rest of his life. He loves him!

Xander tugs at Laslow’s hands cautiously. Laslow’s eyes flit down to where their hands are. When did Xander take his hands like this? His hold is gentle, but it is firm. Secure. Laslow’s brain is starting to feel numb from the chaos happening inside his own head and _secure_ sounds very nice.

Following his liege to bed is both easy and familiar. Xander helps Laslow undress to his underclothes and Laslow is either too tired or too ashamed of himself to be shy about his appearance. Xander gives him one of his own night shirts to sleep in and it is _ridiculous_ how baggy it is over Laslow’s body. The sleeves are much too long and the collar is nearly too wide.  Laslow _loves it_.

It isn’t until he is in bed that he starts to think again. It is not until his head is tucked beneath Xander’s chin and Laslow stopped crying that he realizes this is _it_. He’s leaving _tomorrow_. His decision is _final_. Laslow closes his eyes and breathes in deep. Xander faintly smells of the cologne he put on that morning. It is a mild, pleasant smell. Laslow wraps his arms as tight as he can around Xander’s chest.

“Laslow...?” Xander asks. His voice cuts through the darkness that has settled over his bedroom. Laslow takes another deep breath. This time for courage and, perhaps, a bit of luck.

“Xander, I...” Laslow hesitates. Again. He hates himself for his cowardice. “…love you.”

Xander’s voice is genuine, sleepy, and unsuspecting when he says “I love you, as well.”

…

In the end, Laslow couldn’t bring himself to say it. He is a coward and couldn’t break Xander’s heart to his face. Now, he knows: Xander is suffering an unfair fate. A few days earlier, he woke up to an empty bed where he expected to see his lover. It is all Laslow’s fault. He regrets it already. If he could go back, he would. He would tell him the truth about leaving. He would apologize for not saying goodbye. Maybe he would even stay?

Laslow misses his family dearly and he can’t _wait_ to see them. He wants to wrap himself up in his mother’s arms and cry. He just wants to cry it all out: his past, his choices, his future… but it will likely be a handful of days yet before that happens.

When they arrived into this world, they arrived in Valm. Laslow supposes that makes sense just fine. They went to Nohr from a forest in Valm. It extends their journey; it means that they will have to take a ship across the sea.

It is on the boat back to the continent of Ylisse that Laslow begins to realize the twisting awful feeling is more than just his guilt.

The sky is inky black, but there are clear stars above them. Laslow finds himself leaning against the side of the ship. The waves are gentle and the skies are open. It is a calm night to be at sea. A good night, he thinks. It is when he is staring out at the sea that Odin appears. He often appears with a prepared speech of encouragement or with a bit of dramatic flair, but this time he arrives surprisingly quietly. He takes a spot right next to Laslow.

Laslow glances at Odin and watches the gentle breeze muss up his hair. Odin is hard to read. Laslow knows that he left behind a lover as well, but he seems very at peace about it. Likely because he didn’t hide it. He spoke openly about leaving with Niles. (Niles! And Laslow _still_ has no idea how Odin fell into a relationship with someone so inherently _gross_.) Of course, Odin also said he didn’t believe himself to be in love when they left. Laslow would believe that, if Odin didn’t appear to be mourning.

Yet, even through mourning his own loss, Odin has a keen sense of awareness. He has watched out for Laslow since they were just teenagers and Laslow has done the same. That is why, no doubt, Odin confronts Laslow on his behavior. His voice comes out in hush, but Laslow thinks it is accusatory either way. “You’ve been quiet.”

Yes, Laslow can agree to that. He has been quiet. He hasn’t stopped thinking about the way he let things end. He left a _note_. He left in the middle of the night after Xander confessed to _loving_ him, and he left a note. That was all.

The note explained his thoughts. It was brief, only one side of a piece of stationery, but it explained _everything_. He confessed all his fears. He confessed his logic, why he couldn’t allow Xander to court him, why he could never allow Xander to truly love him, or marry him, and that he missed _home_.

“If I had talked with him.” Laslow’s voice comes out more like a croak when he replies. “He would have taken my fears to heart. He would have found a way to make it work, for the both of us.”

Odin nods his head. He doesn’t look at Laslow, just looks out over the ocean as well. In the distance, Laslow thinks he can see the first vague outlines of Ylisse. They are nearly home. Laslow almost expects Odin to say something, but he doesn’t. It is his uncomfortable silence that prompts Laslow to continue talking to him. “He wanted to court me. He wanted to marry me! He said he loves me and I… He would have needed an heir and a queen, right?”

“Right,” Odin agrees. “It is _possible_ he could have made arrangements to have a child with someone else, but I recall you telling me his feelings on mistresses.”

Laslow grips the rail of the ship just a bit tighter. “His father had many. Xander wished to have none.”

“And so?” Odin is quite good at this by now. When they were teenagers arguing over petty things like flirting or naming swords, he might have just told Laslow to get over it. He has grown into a man who cares for his friends. He has grown into the same empathy that is passed down through the Exalted Bloodline.

Most of all, Odin Dark is simply a good friend. Laslow breathes in slowly. “And so, if I were to stay, my only choices would be to force Xander to take a mistress and have an ‘illegitimate heir’… or to reveal to all of Nohr that…”

“Exactly.” Odin nods his head again. “You would have lived a life you _hated_ , Laslow. Although it may hurt now, you will both heal. Perhaps you will even find someone new, one day, when your heart can move on and leave the crown prince to rest in your memories.”

“No.”

“No?” Odin asks. Laslow bites his lip as hard as he can without splitting it. There is no going back, now. There is no reason to wish he can return to Nohr, to Xander, because it is too late for second thoughts. Nohr is gone, _forever_. Laslow’s silence trails on for a long while. Odin prompts him a second time. “Are you feeling alright?”

“I’m not feeling well.” Laslow whispers. Squeaks it, even, and when he turns his head to look at Odin there are tears welling up in his eyes. Odin is, naturally, surprised. He is also, unnaturally, still very quiet.

“You haven’t been yourself lately.”

Laslow almost wants to laugh, he feels so pathetic. He reaches up and scrubs away tears from his own eyes with the back of his hands. “I’ve been worried sick over leaving Lord Xander behind. I was so worried that I wasn’t paying attention to myself, I suppose. I just pushed being so ill all the time to the back of my mind. I thought I was only worrying over telling the truth, but…”

Odin watches him. He doesn’t break his eye contact, though it’s evident he’s feeling uncomfortable. He’s not sure what’s causing Laslow to cry like this, no doubt.

Laslow almost doesn’t want to tell him. Shortly Odin will return to Ylisstol, and Laslow will travel to Regna Ferox. He doesn’t _have_ to burden Odin with this. He does anyway. “…But I have been sick in patterns, I’ve realized since we came home. And I haven’t paid attention—I hate to pay attention to it—and so I hadn’t noticed that I... Ah, Odin, I think I may be with child.” Laslow’s voice falls to a whisper towards the end. He’s unsure if Odin even _hears him_ at first, because he doesn’t seem to respond.

After that Odin breathes out his understanding. It’s so simple; it’s so quiet. Odin says, “Oh.”

“Right.” Laslow wipes away the last of his tears with his sleeve and then he turns away from Odin, to look back out over the soothing sea. Odin says nothing after that. Laslow doesn’t blame him. He isn’t sure what he expects Odin to say after he admits that he may have carried the heir to the Nohrian throne home with him. Or, at least, the would-be heir.

Laslow doesn’t think this is how his daydreams of a family were meant to play out.


	2. Chapter 2

……………………………

_Three Years Later_

…………………………..

Nohr isn’t yet the thriving kingdom it was during his grandfather’s reign. Xander knows that it likely won’t be during his own. Although they were able to stop the senseless fighting with Hoshido thanks to Corrin’s efforts, the country is weak. Corrupted by Anankos, King Garon drove Nohr damn near into ruin. Their people are starving and angry. The royal family isn’t well liked by everyone.

There have been assassination attempts on Xander and his siblings more than once in the past three years. Unfortunately, there is only one punishment suitable for treason. Xander doesn’t want to be a king who bathes in blood, but he won’t let murderers walk free. Xander doesn’t want to be the man who sets the example, but he does it for future generations of Nohrian royalty. If Xander stands up and condemns those who mean to kill his family… well, soon enough, the attempts at his life will stop.

Xander knows he must set the standard for a new era of Nohr. He knows he is the man who must lead his kingdom out of darkness. The skies are changing over Nohr and Hoshido, and with somewhat brighter skies Xander is sure are symbolic to change… He does his best.

Xander does his best, but he wonders every day if his best is possibly enough. He can recall days years ago when he would sit at his desk and speak to Laslow. Laslow would tell him he would be a wonderful king. He would promise that Xander’s rule would be remembered as a _good thing_ and that his people would cherish his efforts. Back then, those words were hardly as important as they are now… when Laslow isn’t around to speak them.

Laslow had justified reasons not to stay in Nohr. Xander knows that if he were standing in Laslow’s shoes, he may not have been able to abandon his family either. He _understands_ why Laslow was afraid of marriage. Xander isn’t angry with Laslow for his choice. He did promise that he would forgive Laslow for abandoning him, one day.

Xander just hadn’t expected the word _abandon_ to be so accurate. It has been three years, but he is still left feeling empty each morning when he wakes up alone. He is still shocked every morning, as if everything has been a bad dream and when he comes out of his sleep, he will see his lover with a sleepy smile.

Laslow isn’t here to encourage Xander to be the king he knows he can be and Xander… can’t afford to dwell on the past. Nohr is starving and so he reconnects trade with Hoshido. As part of the war relief, their new allies provide them with food and clean water and medicine. Corrin’s kingdom of Valla is young and raw and so Xander gifts them some Nohrian lands… and that causes many people to be angry. Nohrian people are now suddenly Vallite, with no idea what Valla even is.

It is a daily struggle to determine which people Xander can make happy and which people he must leave angry. It is hard. The people of his kingdom didn’t all see it, but Xander is picking up each fallen stone that has chipped away from their kingdom and he is rebuilding it. Some days, it feels impossible and, some days, he has more success than others.

That is until people start speaking out that Nohr has no heir to succeed him. (They, no doubt, look forward to an heir. They didn’t all appreciate Xander’s decisions as king, but perhaps their next king or queen will be better?) Once pressure to find a bride is set on his shoulders, Xander finds himself weaker than ever.

When Leo takes a wife, Xander expects his pain to resurface stronger than before. Instead, something… unexpected happens. Xander realizes that he isn’t the _only man_ responsible for his kingdom. His brother, his sisters, they are all members of the royal family, and they are _all_ capable of providing an heir. That realization becomes twice as real when Leo’s wife announces she is expecting their first child.

Leo’s child will be the firstborn heir to Nohr. If Xander never has a child of his own, Leo’s child will be the immediate heir. It isn’t ideal, but…

It works.

Of course, having found a solution to Laslow’s desire not to have children with Xander means nothing if he can never see him again. That is why he has butterflies in his stomach today. He is meeting with Azura. She is like a sister to him, although he was never allowed to be around her. She was once a princess of Nohr, but now she lives as a Princess of Valla.

She is visiting him in the castle today. She has already arrived. She is waiting for him in a sitting room, and when Xander reaches for the handles at the door he takes in a deep breath. For nearly a year, she has been corresponding with him through letters about finding a way back to Laslow. It seemed hopeless, but then she wrote him to say she would be visiting him, and hope sprung into him.

He only prays it isn’t misplaced hope.

He opens the doors and is greeted by the sound of Azura humming to her young son and the scent of freshly brewed coffee that one of the butlers brought. She is seated on a chair, lovely as ever. By her ankles, nearly covered by her dress, there is a chest large enough that it would probably comfortably hold his cat if she had the chance to sneak inside of it. It wouldn’t be the first time she trapped herself in a box trying to make it into a bed. Xander tries to discourage her from climbing into every box or crate she finds, but… he has found that cats simply don’t care for persuasion.

Xander takes a seat across from Azura on a lounge. He is on the edge of his seat, his stomach is still fluttering, and he searches for words. “Azura,” he finally says, “It is good to see you again.”

Azura smiles at him, something almost mischievous. Playful. “It is good to see you too, Xander. I suspect you are curious about what brings me here…” Her eyes meet Xander’s, and then he watches her glance down at the chest, too. She looks back at him with a tiny laugh. “I’ve brought you a gift. I see you’ve noticed.”

Xander clears his throat, and his cheeks grow an uncomfortable shade of pink. Of course she saw him looking at the chest. “I must admit, your letter was very vague.” She said only that she found something. She never truly mentioned if she found something that would _work_. Xander folds his hands in his lap to try and hide his nerves. “You said you found something...?”

“When you told me that Laslow left this world by means of a stone, I became suspicious,” Azura begins. She bends down and picks up the chest by its sides and sets it on her lap. From there, she begins to fidget with the latch, but she doesn’t open it. “You see, in the first Valla, Anankos could create stones that were known to have powerful magic. They aren’t hard to come by when you know what you are looking for. These stones, called translocation stones, are what I believe carried our friends back to their own world.”

Xander looks once more at the chest. Azura puts her playful smile back on her face. She flips the latch open and lifts the lid of the chest back. Inside there are a variety of marble-like stones. They are in many different shapes, sizes. They are all similar in color, a translucent white. They sparkle like diamonds, but they aren’t faceted.

“These,” Xander begins. He hesitates because he can hardly believe this is possible. “These are the stones you’re speaking of?”

Azura nods her head. “A small stone will take you one way, to another world or a deep realm perhaps. To another reality. A larger stone may go both ways, or even make multiple trips. You may have all of them, Xander. There is enough power here to transport you to Laslow and back a hundred times.”

A hundred times. Enough times, no doubt, for Laslow to visit his family any time he chose. Enough times, that Xander could, perhaps, persuade him to reconsider going home. He swallows, and Azura closes the chest to set it back on the floor. “Be cautious. Take many with you to make sure you are able to return home safely with him. Do not go alone… None of us know anything about that world. They may not be friendly towards strangers.”

She is right, of course, but it seems absurd to Xander that Laslow’s home world may be anything but kind. Laslow spoke so highly of it. To produce a man as good as Laslow is… Xander is sure that world is full of generosity and love. “How does it work?”

Azura blinks. “The stones? You need only to think hard about where it is you want to be. Surely you will be speaking to your family about your departure first… won’t you?”

“Of course.” Xander answers. He is the king. He can’t simply vanish without a trace. Arrangements must be made, and Xander must come up with a plan for Nohr in his absence. Not to mention, he must come up with a plan for what to say to Laslow when he sees him again.

Xander smiles a tiny smile knowing that it is a matter of when, not _if_.  

…

The sunlight here is almost harsher than in Hoshido. Because it is unexpected, Xander finds it to be even more offensive. When he blinks open his eyes, he is faced with a blue sky and the sound of bird songs he has never heard before.

“Omigosh, it’s _so pretty!_ ”

Ah, and he is also greeted by Elise’s voice. He finds that he is on the ground. Bucephalus has already abandoned him to graze on the nearby grass. He pushes himself to his feet and looks around himself. He is, admittedly, taking a small headcount. This turned out to be more of a field trip than a mission, and more than one person in their small army is liable to wander off.

All of his siblings joined him on this venture. Camilla insisted she see Selena again. It simply isn’t fair that Xander would see her, and she wouldn’t, apparently. Besides, she simply must know if she ever found her way into the arms of her would-be lover. Xander watches Beruka pull Camilla up to her feet. Camilla dusts herself off and begins to take in the view that is their surroundings. Beruka likely already looked around twice over. She has her arms crossed tight around herself and her mouth drawn into a tiny frown. Wary as ever… She is a virtuous retainer.

Camilla never took a new retainer when Selena left. She claimed not to need two when they aren’t faced with war. Xander hasn’t yet forced her to take another one. Beruka is exceptionally skilled and trained anyway.

Leo also joined him on this trip. Xander _knows_ that a part of him grew excited to see Odin again at the very mention of it. Leo often claims he is happy to have the quiet to hear himself think when the subject of his old friend arises. His new retainer isn’t nearly as loud as Odin was, nor does he seem to care about things such as special attack names or the call of his own blood. He is quite _normal_.

(Quite _boring_ , Elise has argued. She misses playing games and talking like Odin, too.)

Leo does have a wife to consider now. Although she is capable and strong, she is weakened by their growing child, and so Leo leaves one of his retainers behind to watch over her. They don’t intend to be gone long. Xander is sure there is little risk of anything happening to her while they are away. There are many guards at the castle to keep her safe, and Azura is also remaining in Nohr, standing in as ruler until her siblings return.

Niles, of course, joins Leo. He has never been known to let his liege wander without watching over him, unless he is forced to leave him be. Niles certainly acts unimpressed about visiting Ylisse. Xander suspects that is a mask, but he doesn’t press the issue. Niles is, momentarily, occupied with Elise. In her excitement, she backs up into him. He looks over his shoulder only to relax and roll his eyes. “Watch your step, Milady.”

Elise wouldn’t be left behind. Xander tried only once to convince her that it is safer in Nohr, and that it would be best for her to stay to watch over Krakenberg. She _quickly_ elected Azura to that position. Both of her retainers are here to watch over her… and so Xander finds it hard to imagine she will get into much trouble. She is, after all, more mature than she acts. _Arthur_ is more likely to encounter trouble than she is.

Xander is almost overwhelmed with the knowledge that, very suddenly, he has no idea where they are. He assumes that these translocation stones did their jobs. He assumes they are in Laslow’s homeland, Ylisse. Even so, he has no idea where any landmarks of Ylisse _are_.

He is about to ask Leo when he notices a shape on the horizon. Several shapes, in fact, they are people. Some people carrying spears, he knows, because the weapons have a distinct silhouette. “Drat,” He whispers under his breath. He turns his attention to his brother. “Leo. There is a force approaching.”

Leo is quick to step into the stirrup of his horse’s saddle. He pulls himself onto her back so he can get a better look, and his gaze sets where Xander has pointed. Niles steps into the stirrup on the opposite side. He holds himself up with a firm grip on the saddle-horn, but he doesn’t mount the horse… he wants only to get a view of their potential enemies.

He steps down a moment later, presumably when he has an idea of who is coming. “Soldiers, Milord. Almost exclusively infantry, but I hear Pegasus wings.” He hums thoughtfully. Leo rolls his lips in tight while he thinks. Xander can’t _see_ any sky mounts, but when Niles says it… yes, he can certainly hear the sound of wingbeats, too.

“Maybe… they’re friendly?” Elise asks. She is sweet, but even she has the good sense to climb onto her mount and prepare for battle. Optimism is no excuse for ignorance. Her retainers stay flanked at her steed’s sides.

“Such a friendly greeting, to come armed with weapons,” Camilla coos. Xander finds himself irritated by her words, but he isn’t sure why. Perhaps it is in their nature to be hostile to opposing countries. It is how they were raised.

“Do not raise your weapons yet. We are unexpected intruders in their home. Elise is right, there is some chance this can be resolved peacefully.” After he says that, Xander clicks his tongue twice and Bucephalus trots close to him. Xander doesn’t climb into his saddle, however. He grips the reins in his hand and guides the horse with him, to meet their commander.

Xander notices the commander before he notices the woman accompanying her. She is tall and holds herself proud. He calls out to her in what he _hopes_ is a friendly voice. “Greetings! I am—!”

And _then_ he notices the woman accompanying the commander. It takes him an extra second to process who she is. Her hair is different—perhaps a little longer, too, but most obviously it is _blonde_. She looks right past him; her eyes pass over Xander and immediately focus on his sister. “Lady Camilla?”

Xander has _never_ seen Camilla move so fast to hug someone. She leaves behind her Wyvern and her weapons and pushes herself into the arms of her once-retainer urgently. “Selena!” She pulls her in close and smothers her cheek against the top of her head, and all the while Selena’s face grows as dark as a ripened tomato. “Look at you, lovely as ever. And your hair!”

Camilla fawns over Severa, but it only lasts so long before she has had too much and takes a step back. “Uh, Lady Camilla… How did you get here? It’s supposed to be impossible.”

Xander’s attention turns back to the leader of the small force. She is effectively stunned, and he clears his throat to get her attention. “We’ve come as peaceful visitors,” he says. She looks him up and down and back up again.

“Are you King Xander?”

A stunning question to receive from a perfect stranger. He has absolutely no idea who she is, after all. He closes his mouth and looks her over again. It is then that he notices the mark in her eye, and he thinks back to a time when Laslow spoke to him of such things. A time when Laslow was grounded and sitting on the floor of Xander’s room while he worked.

She is royalty. Xander nods his head at her, and politely, he takes a short bow. “I am. I apologize, I do not know your name.”

“I am Lucina,” she breathes out her words with a wisp of excitement, and Xander is amazed by how interested she seems to be in them, now that she knows his name. “I’ve heard so much about you. About all of you! You are all heroes and—oh!”

Xander steps back. His sister grabs Lucina by her cheeks and examines her with a keen eye. “ _You’re_ Lucina?” Camilla asks. Lucina blinks at her and with a very uncomfortable noise she nods. “Are you treating my dear Selena well?”

“It is Severa here, Milady,” Severa says with a cough into her hand. She seems to be quite embarrassed. Likely not over the mistake of her name. Camilla blinks twice at her.

“Yes, of course. Well then, are you treating my dearest _Severa_ well? I’ve heard so much about you, too, you know.”

It is no surprise that Camilla puts her nose as deep into Severa’s business as possible on the way back to Castle Ylisstol. What _is_ a surprise is that the Princess Lucina seems entirely unfazed by the whole event.

Xander wonders if she even understands just what references Camilla keeps making. He also wonders if Laslow has changed as much as Severa has. Or will he have changed at all?

…

They are met at the gates. Or, that is to say, when a small army of people fall from the sky in Ylisse, they tend to investigate the matter. They are led by Lucina and Severa, who Xander has learned entirely by eavesdropping on his sister’s conversation (somewhat accidentally at first, and then simply to pass the time while they walked), are now an item.

Part of him is just the slightest bit jealous, but he knows it stems from his desire to see Laslow again. It isn’t fair to be jealous of other people's happiness.

When they _arrive,_ Xander is briefly made to be jealous again. Unexpectedly, Odin appears. He was standing at the castle gates with a man with rich, blue hair, but when he sees their party approach he runs to meet them. Xander thinks, from what he sees, he might have initially been running to greet Leo. However… He ultimately hesitates and greets Niles first.

Xander can’t say, in the time he has known him, that he ever saw Niles hug someone like that. Perhaps awkwardly pat their back if they hugged him, but… Odin runs to him and Niles opens his arms wide to catch him in an embrace that is so fast and so jarring that they both nearly lose their footing. (Or perhaps Niles braces himself knowing well what might happen?) Odin pushes Niles back to arm’s length, and he laughs and starts talking some nonsense or other. Xander does his best to ignore them.

 

When will he be reunited with _his_ lover?

Odin reintroduces himself as Owain sometime later that evening. They are all seated and evening has fallen over Ylisstol. The castle is nothing like Krakenburg. The color scheme is closer to a Hoshidan castle, but even then it is stylistically different. It is something entirely new. All of Ylisse is, Xander learned rapidly.

They’ve gathered together in a room very… different. There is a round fireplace in the center of the room, and around it are many cushions and, further from it, lounges and chairs. It seems much more casual than Xander is accustomed to. He supposes all of Ylisse is. He is surprised to learn how easily commoners can walk the castle halls. It is an ideal world, where the citizens of a country can be trusted not to kill their royalty.

He has also learned something a little less than ideal.

“He isn’t here, Lord Xander,” Owain says. His hair isn’t the same as it was in Nohr, either, but it is still a shade of blonde. Xander never thought to ask Laslow what his true appearance was. He supposes it is because he never thought Laslow would leave him. He truly thought they would be together always.

It is hard to think about Laslow’s departure. There is a raw spot in his heart that still hurts when he remembers that Laslow snuck out of his life in the night and never returned. As confident as he wants to be that Laslow will jump at the chance to join him again in Nohr… there is a very loud voice, nagging and cruel, in the back of Xander’s mind that tells him otherwise.

Owain is seated between Leo and Niles. He spent a long while catching up with them. Xander hasn’t heard Leo laugh quite this much in a very long time. Likewise, Camilla hasn’t stopped pestering Severa for details about her relationship with the princess of Ylisse.

Now, Owain is talking to Xander and by no fault of his own has become Xander’s least favorite person in the room. He supposes he suspected as much. Should Laslow have been here, he would have already joined them. “Do you know where we might find him?”

“Yeah,” Severa mutters. “It’s not like it’s hard.”

Owain nods his head and brightly announces; “Inigo of the Indigo Skies finds home in the West-Capitol of Regna Ferox!”

 _Inigo_. Xander recognizes the name for what it is. Laslow told him his real name, once. Xander doesn’t say a word on the matter, he instead focuses on what he sees as the more pressing issue. “Where _is_ Regna Ferox?”

“They border us to the north,” Owain answers. He looks away from Xander for a moment. No doubt because Xander is disappointed. Or is there something more? Severa is suddenly quiet as well.

What can that possibly mean? The lack of enthusiasm doesn’t sit well with Xander at all. “Is something the matter, Owain?”

Owain’s shoulders tense and he laughs in such a way that Leo and Niles both raise a brow in his direction. Xander is sure that is a bad sign. “What? It’s nothing! I am only thinking about how… amazed Inigo will be to see you again. I think he will be overjoyed.”

It still doesn’t sit well with Xander. “We will set out tomorrow morning for Regna Ferox,” he says.

Xander is no stranger to making decisions that people don’t often agree with, but he is amazed now by how every face in the room suddenly stops smiling.

“But _Xander_!” Elise pouts at him. “We just got here… if we leave now, we won’t get to spend very much time with Severa or Owain _or_ Lucina!”

“It’s no problem at all!” Owain says. He doesn’t look as cheerful as he makes his voice sound. “My uncle is a renowned tactician. He has a collection of maps large enough that it has its own wing in the library. I am _sure_ I can convince him to part with a map that will guide you through Regna Ferox.”

Owain stands up from his spot and leaves a hole between Niles and Leo where he was. He clearly means to go fetch that map. Niles catches his wrist and Owain turns to look down at him.

“How rude of you not to even invite Lord Leo to see the library. He is so very fond of new and exotic literature… or have you forgotten?”

Just like that Owain’s smile comes back, and through his grin he says “I would be honored to show you both the way.”

Camilla’s smile, however, hasn’t come back. In fact, it is something of an irritated glare. Xander finds himself huffing. He understands. They have only just been reunited with their friends. They want to spend more time with them, it is why they accompanied him on this trip.

 _Xander_ wants to find Laslow! It is the meaning of this journey in the first place. “Perhaps…,” he starts, “ _Perhaps_ Peri and I can make the journey to Regna Ferox on our own. We will meet with Laslow and return here.”

Hopefully they will return here _with Laslow_.


	3. Chapter 3

The entire castle is bustling. Basilio hosts parties far more frequently than he likely should… and this one is in full swing. Most of his parties are heavy on the drinking in the beginning and heavy on the fighting at the end. He sits on his ‘throne’ and watches friends spar, a drunken game almost, and, in the end, everyone has a good time. The people of Regna Ferox are no strangers to roughhousing in good fun.

Usually, Inigo slips away from the parties before the fighting begins, to trade places with his father.

Lon’qu isn’t always one for socializing at parties. He is a handsome man and, although he is older now and happily married, women do often approach him. He isn’t nearly as bothered by women as he once was, but… he still tries his best to avoid them. He says he has eyes only for Olivia.

When Inigo came back to this world, he was unsure what he would be faced with. He was alone once he parted ways with Owain and Severa. He was scared, because, by the time he reached his homeland, he was quite certain he was with child. Would he be greeted with his mother's grave, or would he be greeted with the mother from the past? Would she be too preoccupied with her new son, her _real son,_ to care for him?

Inigo was met with the best possible scenario when he returned home. He was greeted by _his_ mother. She welcomed him with open arms, pulled him in close and kissed the side of his cheek while she cried and thanked the gods he had survived. She called him a hero, and he didn’t understand what was happening, back then.

Now, years later, he does understand. It makes enough sense that he doesn’t bother to question it. Anankos told them that he couldn’t reconstruct their original world, and perhaps that was because he wasn’t as strong as he once was… or perhaps it was because their original world no longer truly existed. It was only a shell of a dimension. It turned out that, by preventing their horrible future from ever happening, the group of children who traveled backwards in time restored their own world all on their own.

His mother never died. Her memories are vague where his begin. She can remember the day that he went back in time to save them. She can remember when the other children came back, and she can remember that Inigo, Owain, and Severa didn’t. They mourned the loss of those children… when instead they had gone to Nohr, to grow into their lives there.

It is an ideal world. In this life, his lovely mother never had to suffer. She smiles every day as if she has never seen true evil. She smiles because she lives in a world that is safe and sound, and it is the world that Inigo wants for his child, and so he accepts it as his own with open arms… but he can still remember the day his mother died. He can still hear her last breaths, haunting his nightmares.

Inigo loves his mother so much. He has learned to forgive that their memories don’t quite mesh up. He has taught himself to forgive that she believes she has raised him, when really, he was just one of a group of lonely orphans who took arms to save the world. She, in turn, accepts that his memories are unlike hers as well… and, although she can distinctly remember teaching him once already, when he asks her to she teaches him the end of her favorite dance.

When Inigo arrived back in Regna Ferox, he was greeted by his mother and his father, who he remembers from his childhood, but he is also greeted by Basilio. He knows that Basilio is a hero, and he knows that he saved Olivia, took her in as his own. He can recall meeting Basilio in the past. In this time, his features are a bit more distinguished as his age begins to show through, but he is still a loud, hoot of a character. He is the grandfather that Inigo never had… and he is nothing but supportive of Inigo when he becomes a father. He even (tries) to tone down his volume, because Inigo’s son is easily startled by loud noises. They learn that rather quickly.

Siegbert is Laslow’s pride and joy. He is so bright and so smart. For a child his age, he is accelerated, already challenging himself with recognizing words and letters. He is well on his way to reading and Inigo is amazed… because he is only almost three. Siegbert is quiet. He is shy, but he is polite. He maintains good eye contact when he speaks and he knows to say please and thank you.

He is named for Xander’s grandfather. Inigo can recall a time when he walked with Prince Xander through the gallery of Krakenburg and they stopped in front of the painting of _King Siegbert II_ , the last king of Nohr’s Golden Age. He was known by his people to be just and kind, and he raised his son to be as well. Inigo had trouble believing it back then: that King Garon was ever a man who could be strict or humble or kind.

On the day his son was born, Inigo learned that children… they aren’t born evil. A man can’t be born corrupt. It is a learned trait, taught by someone or something. Inigo wants nothing more than for Siegbert to learn to be polite and strict and kind… just as his own father is.

Siegbert looks exactly like Xander. Everything about him does, from the shade of his eyes to the complexion of his skin… even his hair curls at the ends. Inigo keeps it short, for now, but he wonders… if he were to let his son’s hair grow out longer, would he look exactly like Xander?

It is a constant reminder that he misses him—still sometimes longs to be in the castle and held tight in the arms of its king.

Siegbert is a good boy but he is a child. He has no place at parties like these. He is young and small and liable to be stepped on by these people. He is also quite shy, and he barely has a voice to speak to strangers. He is more inclined to hide behind Inigo’s legs. He would be uncomfortable at this party… and so Lon’qu watches over him for some time. When it gets later, Inigo will switch with Lon’qu. Inigo will leave the party behind and he will sneak away to read with Siegbert and put him to bed.

For now, Inigo is enjoying himself simply by being part of the entertainment.

Basilio’s parties are loud, always boisterous. The music is fast today, people keep time to dances with the clapping of their hands, the beating of the drums, and the scattered bell tones of a tambourine Inigo bounces off his hip while he dances.

Inigo is still uncomfortable dancing when he is the center of attention. His mother is renowned, she dances on stages and in performances. Inigo dances mostly with Siegbert when he tries to pass down his skills to his son. Siegbert is, as it turns out, quite gifted at it. He is a natural dancer.

 

Inigo isn’t uncomfortable dancing at this party. There are a few dancers with them, but Inigo enjoys this because he is there on a stage dancing with his mother.

The outfits they wear are suited to dancers, and they compliment each other and also their own bodies. Inigo is… comfortable enough. Much of his skin is exposed in these clothes. Marks on his legs and across his belly where his skin once stretched, scars from his time in battle; these are things that make him shy, but no one comments on them. Their focus isn’t on Inigo’s flaws. He learned, since his mother helped guide him, that people are far more likely to focus on the good.

At this party, Inigo dances confidently because people are watching him dance with his mother, and they are _amazed_ by their performance. Inigo laughs with Olivia, keeps time with the tambourine while she twirls and he sways his own body so that the gold coins that hang from his hips jingle and jangle. They dance with each other, to show off their talents… but they also dance with the crowd. They lead the dances with their hands clapped above their heads and with smiles spread over their faces and they teach guests how to step for the line dances until everyone has a laugh in their voice and the confidence to join in.

Inigo loves to teach the ladies who attend to dance. He tells them how stunning they look, he takes their hands and teaches them how to hold them so that others can pass under and through. They blush, tipsy and giggly, and he feels _good about himself_. He is happy that he has finally grown into flirting. He is happy that his talents can make women smile and feel beautiful. As it turns out… all he had to do was stop flirting with a goal in mind.

Inigo enjoys the parties. He doesn’t drink much if only because he knows he will return to his son to tuck him into bed shortly, but… he finds himself light and high simply from the bright company. The dance he is leading comes to a surprising end, however, and suddenly he feels less light. People are whispering. There are intruders? Uninvited guests? Inigo isn’t sure what they mean, only that no one here is properly armed.

Inigo pushes through the crowd to get an idea of what is going on, and he suddenly understands why everyone is so horrified. Inigo forgets how to breathe.

Xander is here. How can he be? Inigo simply has no idea. All he knows is that it’s true. Right in front of his eyes! Xander is there, dressed in all of his armor with Peri at his side. It is no wonder people are bothered. They stand out even if they weren’t equipped for war; Nohrian armor is ominous and unrecognizable here. Xander isn’t doing anything horrible, however. He’s just staring. Staring at Inigo.

Can he possibly be real?

Someone shouts that maybe they should attack. Basilio calls out, wondering why his party has stalled. Inigo remembers how to breathe… and he runs forward to Xander. Oh, he _means_ to stop and tell him he’s insane. What idiot crashes a party in a suit of armor? But he doesn’t. He throws his arms around him tight and clings to Xander instead.

He wants to ask how. He wants to ask _why_! He can’t. He can’t focus on asking him anything because suddenly he is overwhelmed. Xander wraps his arms around Laslow and spreads his palm over his back in a way that is just _so_ familiar.

Inigo cries. Tears well up before he can stop it and he takes a deep breath. Xander still smells just like he remembers. He’s still so tall, so handsome. Inigo steps back (not far—Xander doesn’t let him step too far from him) and he looks over his face. He is stressed, the lines of his face are a little deeper, but he is still handsome as ever in three years and…

…Inigo is suddenly very aware that he is hardly dressed to meet his once-lover. He folds his arms over himself and he finally, _finally_ remembers his own voice. “M-Milord…”

How long has it been since he has used that title? Inigo swallows back any trace of his tears and he looks around. Everyone is staring. Olivia and Basilio are both in the front of the crowd, watching them. Watching _him_. He looks at the floor and he blushes.

This is humiliating… Xander is still as handsome as he always was, but Inigo… Once he came home he put his sword aside. He raised his son, not a training blade. Where once _Laslow_ had defined abs and arms strength, Inigo is simply lean and soft and flat. Would Xander approve of those changes? Does Inigo need that approval? He would like to say he doesn’t, but…

Inigo cares a great deal what the man he once loved so much, the man he still loves, thinks. He cares a great deal and this is _humiliating_. Even more humiliating is Xander is speaking to him, he says something and Inigo doesn’t even listen! He interrupts him instead. “Milord, I… Please. We should talk in private, and I… I need to put _clothes_ on.”

Peri giggles and it rings through Inigo’s memory like a bell.

…

Inigo pulls at the sleeve of his shirt nervously. He is so excited to see Peri and Xander again. He’s thrilled, because he loves them both and he has missed them dearly, but… His whole head is swimming with anxiety.

What does this mean?

Part of him already is daydreaming of Nohr. Granted, he loves the sunshine of his home world, but Nohr _feels like home_ to him. He misses the dark skies and the unique plants and flowers and teas.

He meets with Xander in his own room. He isn’t afraid of it. Peri stands outside and watches the door, and he supposes he should be glad she still trusts him to be alone with their liege. _Her_ liege. He’s relieved to see that Xander has shed his armor. He is wearing his more casual clothes. He looks good like that. It pulls at Inigo’s heart to see him look exactly like he always has. He’s missed him _so much_.

It’s not a big room. Inigo’s bedroom has a small sitting area and a table with his bed pushed back towards the far wall. Xander is still standing from having been let in. Inigo is standing too. They both are. They are standing, facing each other, totally silent, and Inigo thinks it is the most uncomfortable silence he has ever stood in.

Xander must feel the same. He struggles. Inigo can see it on his face: his thought process. He is sifting through ways to start talking. Just as he opens his mouth to say anything at all, though, Inigo sucks in a breath and says: “ _Wait_.”

Xander closes his mouth and waits… and Inigo closes their distance. He has no business kissing the King of Nohr. He doesn’t know what Xander’s life has become. Perhaps he did take a wife (as he was meant to!) and this visit isn’t about their past at all, but…

Inigo kisses him anyway. He steps closer and puts both of his hands on Xander’s cheeks. His face is warm under Inigo’s fingers, and Inigo easily guides him to lean down to kiss him. Inigo pushes off the platforms of his feet into that kiss, their lips press together tight and then he relaxes into his mouth when Xander reciprocates it. He kisses him back.

_Is this a good sign?_

Their lips part with a tiny, embarrassing noise and Inigo slides his hands down to Xander’s shoulders, and then his forearms, and he squeezes gently. “Just in case.” He says… as if that is an even remotely rational explanation.

“Come home with me.” Xander breathes it out urgently and, even before it’s entirely out of his mouth, he looks ashamed of himself for wording it like that. It hardly matters if he’s ashamed of himself. He’s already said it. Just like that, Inigo is now sure of his intentions. He came here just to take Inigo home.

“Milord, I…” He bites his lip. He has a handful of reasons why it would be complicated. He daydreamed of this. He dreamed of a day when Xander would come find him, kiss him into a stupor and take him back to Nohr.

“Please. Let me explain,” Xander says. Inigo… thinks he has something _far more_ urgent to explain, but he nods his head. Xander’s hands shift until they are wrapped around both of Inigo’s.

“When you left, I never had the chance to talk with you about what you wanted or did not. I should have put your fears to rest early, and maybe if I had listened to what was bothering you… maybe you might have stayed with me.”

 _Guilt_. Inigo feels it like bile in his throat. He feels it as heavy as he did the day he left Nohr. Xander suffered, and it was his fault. He bites down on his lip and waits for Xander to continue. “When you left it might have been more of a concern, but Leo has taken a wife. She is expecting a child, and that baby will be the rightful heir. There’s no need for you to have a child… Laslow, I…”

Inigo might swear he can hear Xander begging, even when he isn’t directly. He doesn’t like it. He squeezes Xander’s hands in a way that is hopefully reassuring. “You still feel the same way for me..? Aren’t you angry with me, for abandoning you?”

Xander’s frown sets and Inigo wishes he hadn’t asked. He braces himself for the guilt to settle hard on his shoulders again, but instead…

“I love you very much, Laslow. I told you I would forgive you if you were to ever leave. The way things ended is less than ideal, but… It does not have to be the end, for good.”

“No,” Inigo agrees. Xander looks down at him and Inigo thinks he is nervous. Is he afraid Inigo will break his heart again? Never. He drops one eye closed in a tiny wink. “All good things deserve a second chance, wouldn’t you say?”

Inigo can almost feel the relief that sweeps through Xander. He’s _happy_. Inigo is making him _happy_. He doesn’t want to stop, he doesn’t want to put a damper on that, but he does want to explain that things have changed in more ways than one. “My family is here, Milord,” he says. It hurts. He doesn’t want to decide to leave his family behind. He thought he already _made_ this decision. Now, knowing that he is with his real mother, with his real father… he isn’t sure the decision is as simple as it once was. “I don’t want to leave them behind…”

“You won’t have to.” Xander says. Inigo hesitates.

“Wh-What?” He asks.

“We can travel freely between worlds now, I promise you,” Xander says. His eyes are strained. His earlier relief is gone. Xander is strong, brave… It is hard to imagine that his leaving affected him this much. It’s _killing_ Inigo. He just wants Xander to be happy, to smile for him. Even if he is clearly distraught over this, Xander’s words are nothing but reassuring. In fact, they’re ideal. “You can visit your family any time you want, and—hm.”

He stops. Inigo isn’t sure why. He’s falling for Xander all over again, fast and hard and like a rock sinking through water. Everything seems perfect. This is right out of a dream: Xander loves him, still wants him, and they can be together without… _any_ of Inigo’s concerns! He waits, but Xander doesn’t particularly continue. In fact, he appears to be staring. At what? Inigo’s room isn’t that interesting. He turns around and…

Ah, there is his little boy. That, Inigo supposes, could be a concern.

Siegbert looks livid. As livid as a two-year-old can be. The pout on his face rivals a pout from Lady Elise and there is no doubt in Inigo’s mind that it is a secret weapon passed down through the royal family. He looks mad until Inigo turns around to face him properly, like he’s going to raise his voice.

Once Inigo has his attention on him, Siegbert switches gears and looks miserable instead. “You can’t leave! You have to stay with me!”

“Oh,” Inigo’s mouth falls open, because this isn’t how he had dreamed anymore. His daydreams always involved his son’s introduction to be somewhat less… aggravated. He certainly never dreamed his own son would think he would be left behind.

Siegbert’s angry façade fails him. His shoulders slump and he bites his little lip and holds in a tiny sob the best he can (which is ultimately not at all). “P-Papa… please don’t go away.”

Could there be anything more heartbreaking in the world? Inigo would never leave his son behind, never in a million years. He loves him so much; he would walk through fire for him without a second thought! It’s obvious, to Inigo, that Siegbert simply doesn’t understand… and so he crouches down and scoops him up into his arms, to hold on his hip. Siegbert, in turn, wraps his arms and legs tight around Inigo and hides his face from the ‘stranger’ while Inigo coos at him.

“I would never, ever leave you,” Inigo assures him. “I _promise_. We will always be together.”

There is honestly no hiding it. There’s no way to revise this situation so that Inigo can calmly and casually admit to having a child, or to mentally prepare Xander to meet his own son. And he is sure that Xander’s silence is a result of seeing the little boy who looks just like him. So instead he just turns until he is properly facing Xander again and does his best to sound truly confident. “Milord, this is my son. You should know that he and I come as something of a set.”

“You have a son.” Xander’s voice is almost a little too high, but Inigo isn’t bothered. He’s just surprised. It’s natural. Xander is no fool and Inigo can see it on his face: he’s studying Siegbert. He’s deciding if he can possibly be his father.

“I do.” Inigo bounces Siegbert on his hip once to get his attention. “Go on, then. Introduce yourself.”

Siegbert is shy. He hates to talk to strangers and Inigo knows it is always a struggle. Inigo just… doesn’t want Siegbert to grow to be as shy as he was himself as a boy. He’s thankful for the way his mother raised him, and that she encouraged him to talk to girls, but… he suspects that Siegbert may benefit from encouragement in a different area. So, every day, Inigo and Siegbert try to talk to someone new and ask them about themselves. This should be no different, but Siegbert shakes his head and makes a quiet noise in protest.

Poor thing. Inigo sighs. “At least look at him,” He tries. Siegbert cautiously turns to examine Xander again. He’s no doubt taking in the most dramatic of his features: his height, his calm frown, the broadness of his shoulders. “Alright, then. This is King Xander, of Nohr.”

Siegbert perks up a little bit and Inigo smiles. He told his son many stories about his father. Mostly stories of his bravery, stories of his tactics. He also shares stories of his generosity, and the warmth and kindness he keeps hidden beneath the surface. “H-He is?” Siegbert asks. He looks unsure how to react. He has never met a king before; not one that is as proper as this. He looks nervous but there is a glint of excitement in his eye. He never met his father before, but he certainly considers him to be an idol.

“Your majesty.” Inigo never truly had the chance to use that title for Xander, before. It is suited to him, of course, but he admittedly uses it mostly to keep his son interested in Xander. “This is Siegbert. He’s a little shy.”

“He is named for my grandfather.” Xander says. Inigo’s smile stays put, but he must admit he’s blushing. There is a pink hue to his cheeks because he’s been caught: he never thought the day would come when he had to own up to having named Siegbert as he did.

“He is named for his great-grandfather, yes.”

Silence settles over them. Xander no doubt is coming to terms with this, now that Inigo has all but said out loud that he is Siegbert’s father. Inigo can’t blame him for his silence. What is he supposed to say when he has just found out he fathered a child?

Inigo sucks in a breath, but it does nothing to help that his nerves are suddenly back full force. He just wants to be clear about a few things, and about how he feels. “Milord… I did not know when I left. I may not have left at all if I had, and I am _sorry_. I am sorry you came all this way to receive unexpected news, and I am sorry your son will not be considered a legitimate heir of Nohr. I should have never left, and if you’ve changed your mind--!”

 

“I have not.” Xander’s voice is stern, in that regard. Inigo, admittedly, is the one who hugs Siegbert a little tighter this time. “I understand your concerns, Laslow, but I have not changed my mind. I’ve told you once already that Leo’s child will be the heir to the throne. That I have a son at all is…more than I’d hoped for.”

Siegbert isn’t too simple to understand what is going on, to some degree. He probably doesn’t know what they’re talking about, or what legitimacy means, but he knows that these are his parents and they are reunited for the first time since he can remember. He puffs out his chest and tries to look brave, now that he wants to impress Xander instead of hide from him. It’s sweet. Inigo is proud of him for trying. He’s even more proud (and somewhat shocked) when Siegbert reaches out for Xander to hold.

There’s a moment of awkward silence followed by a jumble of twice as awkward words.

“You don’t have to— “

“I want to!” Xander hesitates. Inigo looks at him with a mixture of surprise and amusement. Xander clears his throat and tries again, and he reaches out to pull Siegbert into his own arms at his request. “I want to.” He says slower this time, and with a more controlled tone.

Siegbert is nervous. He’s so shy, but he’s meeting his father for the first time and he’s obviously excited too. It must be hard for him. Or maybe it isn’t? Maybe, when Siegbert hugs Xander tight around his neck, it is just because he is a child—innocent and good and happy. Oh, and the smile on Xander’s face is unapologetic. He has held children before, Inigo knows he nearly raised his own siblings, but there is a light in his eyes that Inigo hasn’t seen before when he holds his _own child_.

Just like some sort of magic, Siegbert relaxes. He looks calm and comfortable, and like he isn’t afraid anymore. Xander rubs the palm of his hand up and down Siegbert’s back and he has never met him before, but he must already be falling in love with his son. It would be hard not to when Siegbert is so sweet. Siegbert looks exhausted, like he could fall asleep for the night right there in Xander’s arms. Neither of them look afraid.

Inigo doesn’t think _he’s_ quite so afraid anymore, either.

……………………………

_Two Years Later_

…………………………..

Nohr has accepted Laslow as the king’s husband as best as could be expected. There are people who disapprove and speak out that he should have a wife… but with Leo’s son already born and healthy, there’s already an heir to be the future king of Nohr.

Siegbert is deeply loved by the castle staff. Although most of Nohr treats him as an illegitimate heir, the people who live in Castle Krakenburg and see him every day know differently. He is bright and so kind and does his best to learn everything. He wants to be the best he can be… but he has already expressed to Laslow that he doesn’t want to be king. He was relieved when Laslow told him that his cousin would be king instead.

Laslow, admittedly, is overjoyed that his son won’t have to ascend the throne… because he is so easily overwhelmed by stress even as a boy. He would likely have drowned in that stress.

Each spring Xander arranges to visit Laslow’s family in Ylisse. They stay for a long time, Laslow catches up with his family—tells them all about how Siegbert is doing and how Nohr is faring.

Wonderfully. This year, Laslow knows when he goes to visit his mother and father he will tell them that Nohr is finally recovered from the war. The kingdom has received generous amounts of aid financially from its neighbors. Kind and generous men and women have come together with magic and elbow grease to plant crops that will survive the harsh conditions of Nohr. Farmlands that they never thought would be used again are ripe with life!

Ah, and on a related note, he will also surprise his parents with the news that he is expecting another child. He will invite them to visit them in Nohr towards the end of the summer, when he suspects his new little one will enter the world.

The castle staff have all been paid well to keep Laslow’s secrets, though he suspects that pay was unnecessary. They are all loving and kind, and friends he recalls from his first time in Nohr. The rest of Nohr will likely be told that Xander and Laslow rescued their second child from the streets, or that the child was left abandoned at the castle gates.

Laslow is _happy_. Xander is overjoyed. Siegbert is… skeptical. They will tackle that when the time comes. For now, what is truly important is that they are all together.  

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> That's the end! This was super fun to write and I just loved the chance to include Siegbert because he just doesn't get enough love. LOVE HIM PLEASE. 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading. If you like my writing and are interested in helping support me, please check out this information:
> 
> Writing Commissions (They're open!) - http://www.dorkpatroller.tumblr.com/tagged/writing-commissions  
> My Patreon (it's still brand new but I'm hopeful!) - https://www.patreon.com/dorkpatroller
> 
> AN IMPORTANT NOTE: 
> 
> I will be archiving my writing blog on Tumblr. (iggy-writes.tumblr.com) My new focus will be reblogging ideas and prompts, talking about my upcoming writing, publishing little mini-fics that don't get uploaded here, and posting new fics 48-hrs in advance on my new private blog. You can find more information about that by checking out my patreon, where you can learn how to gain access to it. There will be a post made about this there, too. :) Thank you for following my writing blog on tumblr! I hope to see you at my new patron-only blog too!


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